


A Christmas Nightmare

by knitekat



Category: Primeval
Genre: Action/Adventure, Blackmail, Blood and Gore, Christmas, Concussions, Eye Trauma, Fights, Fix-It, Gen, Graphic Description, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kidnapping, M/M, Major Character Injury, POV First Person, Sarcasm, Secret Santa, Shock, Timey-Wimey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:06:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23602030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knitekat/pseuds/knitekat
Summary: James Lester isn't having a good Christmas, grieving his dead lover and now having to deal with the minster as well... and the trouble he causes.
Relationships: James Lester/Tom Ryan
Kudos: 2





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eriah211](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eriah211/gifts).



> Secret Santa for Eriah211. Prompts: 1) Mayhem in a library, 2) “Would it save you a lot of time if I just gave up and went mad now?” (Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy), 3) "Oh no, not again." (actually a quote by Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy too), 4) “The pen is mightier than the sword if the sword is very short and the pen is very sharp.” (Terry Pratchett quote). Not sure how many I’ve hit or side-swiped. 
> 
> Thanks go to fredbassett for the beta.

I stood at the window of my unlit apartment and stared out over London. The grey skies and persistent rain which had turned the earlier light covering of snow into a dismal, dirty slush fitted my mood perfectly. It might be Christmas but I had nothing I wished to celebrate. I hadn’t even bothered with the minimal and tasteful decorations I usually put up.

Fuck, was I bloody maudlin. I poured myself a far too large measure of whisky before placing it firmly back on the table. I refused to drown my sorrows, I had seen too many people think alcohol was the solution to fall into that trap. I rubbed my eyes, I might be grieving but I could not, would not allow my facade to crumble, not even here at home. If I let it crack I feared I would never be able to patch it back together again.

I believe I would have succeeded if my gaze hadn’t fallen on the calendar. The date of our anniversary was ringed and I closed my eyes as I recalled my plans for our first anniversary. Of going to my place in the country, to share my days and nights with Ryan. Something I would now never get to do and I shuddered when I thought of him, left to moulder in the Permian and… It took several long minutes for me to compose myself, my face streaked with tears. I took a deep breath, vowing that I would carry on, that I would make Ryan’s sacrifice mean something. I had to.

I scrubbed at my face and then almost lost my composure once more when my eyes landed on one of the few mementos of Ryan that I just couldn’t bring myself to throw away. The thought of staying alone in my apartment over Christmas was just too much and I needed to be somewhere, anywhere else. I briefly wondered if I could change shifts and work over the holiday, except I knew it would raise too many eyebrows and I had no wish for either Ms Wickes or Ms Brown to enquire once more into my life. In retrospect, I had taken my eye off the ball when I hadn’t complained more forcefully about Temple’s over-the-top decorating of the ARC.

A knock on the door startled me and I wondered for half-a-moment if it was one of them come to check up on me. I shook my head at that thought, no one on my staff cared about me enough to check up on me, no one had except for Ryan. I was so distracted by my thoughts that I almost opened the door without checking who it is, before remembering how Ryan had been scathing of my lack of security. I peered though the peephole and frowned when I realised it was my next door neighbour, Ms Farquhar, outside. Concern had me quickly opening it and asking, “Is something wrong, Ms...” I began before recalling our previous discussions. “Steph?”

“Not at all, James. I’ve just had a parcel delivered. I thought I’d save you a trip and collect yours while I was down there,” Steph informed me, her eyes narrowing when she looked behind me. “I assume work’s been too busy for decorating...”

“Ah, yes,” I replied, refusing to glance behind myself, knowing doing so would only make me look guilty. 

Steph nodded before obviously changing her mind over what she’d been about to say. “You’re welcome to join David and I for Christmas...”

I shook my head and smiled at her. “Thank you, Steph, but I wouldn’t wish to intrude even if I didn’t have other plans.”

“It wouldn’t be an imposition,” Steph was nothing if not persistent. 

I gave her my best smile and laughed softly. “I really do have plans for Christmas, Steph.” And I did, or rather I had, but I saw no reason to inform her of that. We said our goodbyes and Steph left, apparently satisfied, for now, with my story. I groaned when I realised I would now have to go somewhere for Christmas. Steph would know if I spent the day alone at my apartment and now work was out of the question.

I almost absentmindedly opened my post as I considered my options, putting bills to one side to deal with later and frowned when I came to the last envelope. It was high quality, embossed and I didn’t recognise the handwriting. I slit it open out of curiosity and almost dropped it when I read the contents. An invite to spend the holiday with the minister, Godfrey Barrington-Smythe and wife, Daphne, was the last thing I had expected. Bloody hell, I didn’t have a choice, did I? Not unless I wanted to go to my country retreat and I couldn’t, I just couldn’t face the thought of going there alone after all my plans to spend time this Christmas there with Ryan.

***

The drive to the Barrington-Smythe’s was atrocious, between the traffic, idiot drivers and winding, badly lit roads. I was relieved when my satellite navigation announced I had arrived, although that relief turned to horror at the sheer number of lights which festooned the exterior and trees in the surrounding grounds. Their electrical bill must have been through the roof and so much for Barrington-Smythe’s much vaunted environmental credentials. The only thing that stopped me from leaving there and then was that I had nowhere else to go. I reluctantly parked up and unloaded my luggage, before entering the mansion. I regretted that decision instantly when I stood in the hall and looked around, it looked like a bloody bomb had gone off, decorations festooning every available surface in a variety of clashing colours and designs. Someone obviously didn’t understand that less was definitely more on many occasions.

For a moment I considered making a run for it but knew anywhere I would consider staying would be fully booked. That and the minister probably knew I was here and I had no wish to lose the ARC. I took a deep breath when I heard approaching footsteps, made sure my facade was firmly in place and turned to greet my hosts. “Ah, minister...”

“Now, now, James,” the minister interrupted me. “We’re both off-duty now. Call me Godfrey and I don’t believe you’ve met my dearest Daphne?”

“I haven’t had the pleasure,” I murmured, kissing Daphne’s hand before shaking Godfrey’s hand. “If you could direct me to my room, I’d like to get cleaned up. That was a hellish journey.”

“Of course,” the mini… Godfrey said, glancing towards a closed door. “If you could show James up, my dear. I just need to have a word with Henry...”

“It would be my pleasure, dear,” Daphne said, smiling at me as she took my arm. “James and I can have a little chat on the way.”

“Excellent,” Godfrey said as he headed towards, I assume, Henry, before he reached the door he turned and added, “Dinner is at seven sharp, James.”

***

I cautiously opened the door to my room and knew I’d been unsuccessful in keeping my relieved expression to myself when I heard Daphne laugh lightly beside me. “I know, dear Godders overdid himself with the decorators. I made sure all the guest rooms were… more tasteful decorated,” she informed me before adding, “The library is also safe, I cited a number of valuable and old books I had no wish to be damaged.”

“Thank you, Daphne,” I replied, thankful that I wouldn’t be forced to hide in my room when I could escape the minister. 

Daphne nodded before patting my arm. “I was sorry to hear about your loss, James.”

I swallowed my pain down but was still unable to reply, in the end I just nodded when she squeezed my arm. It was a great relief when Godfrey called her and I gratefully took the opportunity to escape into my room.

***

I glanced at my watch once I had unpacked and I smiled when I realised it was just past four and that I had almost three hours before dinner. I took the time to relax, including luxuriating under the shower and… well, releasing a bit of tension. Pleasurably relaxed, I emerged from the shower and considered whether to get dressed for dinner, relax naked on the bed or explore my temporary residence. In the end a mixture of curiosity on why I’d been invited and my old training of needing to know the territory I found myself in had me dressing casually and slipping out of my room.

I cursed when I realised I hadn’t obtained directions to the library from Daphne, while refusing to dwell on why I hadn’t, and instead took the opportunity to explore. I shook my head at the decorations, briefly wondering if the min… if ‘dear’ Godders was colour-blind, as the clashing colours were threatening to give me a headache. I did ponder returning to my room for my sunglasses, before deciding better for I had no wish to either give a bad impression to the other guests or insult my hosts, especially when he was my boss. The minister had a very low tolerance to being made a fool of. 

I moved quietly down the hallways and stairs, looking into the various rooms as I looked for the library. I breathed a sigh of relief when I finally located the library, tastefully decorated as Daphne had promised. I perused the shelves and was rather impressed in the selection of topics I found, and I picked one out which pricked my interest. 

My watch alarm startled me, and I frowned when I glanced at my watch, cursing when I realised just how long I’d been engrossed in that book. I had barely enough time to return to my room and dress for dinner, but I still paused, reluctant to leave the book behind but I had no wish to remove it without Daphne’s permission. In the end, I bookmarked it and left it on the table, hoping to finish it later.

***

I had to walk quickly to make it to dinner on time and I frowned when I entered to find only one other guest present, Henry I assumed. He was rather nondescript in appearance, although I noticed his eyes appeared to miss nothing.

It didn’t take me long to realise I had little in common with one Henry Jones, if that was his real name, and had to wonder why the minister had bothered to invite me. I had to wonder if someone here, whether the minister or this Henry fellow, had an ulterior motive which required my presence here.  
Although I was wary of the company I found myself in, I found I still enjoyed the dinner. The food was excellent and the wine was a fine vintage. I was just planning my escape back to the library when the minister caught my eye. “Ah, James, just the man.”

“Min… Godfrey?” I replied, my hope for a quiet night reading fading fast. 

“A quick word, if you please,” the minister continued.

I rose to follow, pausing briefly to thank Daphne for an exquisite meal, and resigned myself to a work conversation. So much for a bloody holiday. It was only when I was halfway to the door that I realised that Henry was following me out.

“Don’t dawdle, James.”

I bit back a sigh. “Of course not, M… Godfrey.”

***

I took the snifter of brandy Godfrey offered to me and I swirled the contents as I considered my companions. I had to wonder why Henry had been invited… except he hadn’t been, he’d followed me and the minister hadn’t stopped him. Bloody hell, what mess had the minister got me involved in now… although, at least, I knew why I’d been invited here.

I took the snifter of brandy when the minister handed it to me, meeting the man’s frightened eyes, and cursed him once again. The bloody fool could have come to me, could have told me what the problem was so I hadn’t come here blind. But no, that was far too obvious for ‘dear Godders’ to have even considered. 

I wracked my brain for any mention of a ‘Henry Jones’ or for his likeness, but neither rang a bell, which meant Henry was a new player. I took the time the minister potted about to watch Henry and swore silently once more. He wasn’t playing attention to his surroundings, or rather, the things he was interested in were unimportant. Unless he was either highly skilled in misdirection, the man was more likely a criminal than intelligence… And considering the minister had kept quiet, the situation was being to look more like a personal cock-up by the minister he wanted dealt with quietly than anything official. Once again I was going to have to clear up his mess and he would take the credit if I succeeded and I the blame if I failed.

“I hear you have an interesting project,” Henry broke the silence, before adding, “James, wasn’t it?”

I merely quirked an eyebrow at him, refusing to rise to his obvious bait. I had no idea what the minister had told him, except it had been enough to secure an invite for myself… I dearly hoped the minister hadn’t done what I feared he had, that he required me for my troubleshooting not… Without knowing what the minister had revealed I would have to be cautious. “It has its moments,” I allowed. 

“So Godfrey tells me.”

“Does he?” I murmured, shooting a subtle glance at the minister and seeing him blanch. Right, well that answered the question of what the minister had told Henry but not why. Still, I wasn’t going to admit anything until and unless I had to. 

“James, I...” The minister started before wilting when Henry raised a hand. He instead gulped his brandy with indecent haste and shaking hands. It was clear he was scared of Henry… Oh fuck, I resisted the urge to glance towards the dining room, wondering if one of Henry’s colleagues was holding Daphne at gunpoint even as we spoke. 

“You see, James, young John Barrington-Smythe owes me rather a lot of money and the minister here isn’t that worried about locking his papers up at home. I know about the anomalies,” Henry told me.

Well, that merely confirmed my opinion of the minister and obviously, his son was just as much an idiot. I still needed to know if Henry had any allies within these walls or if he was here alone. I glance at the minister but he wasn’t any help, just giving me a worried and pleading look. “I assume young John is somewhere safe?”

“Of course, my… friends are taking good care of him.” Henry flashed me a smile that resembled too many of my recent encounters with foes – all cold eyes and a mouth full of teeth. “Now, drink up and you can tell me all about your project.”

I took a sip, mostly to buy time, and considered my options. From Henry’s comment, I could imply that he was here alone, the threat to John sufficient to tie the minister’s hands. Not that I could or would assume that so I needed more information, more time to plan how to get us all out of this bloody mess. “Why are you so interested in it?”

“Because I’m no fool, James,” Henry leaned forward. “Just think of all the money you could make from them. The resources just lying around to be taken by anyone willing to grab them.”

Greed, pure and simple. A criminal would be easier to deal with than a professional, at least in some ways. Potentially more vicious but less skilled, less likely to know any spycraft but that didn’t mean any less dangerous. I would need all my wits about me if I was to succeed, remembering too many missions which failed because those undertaking them had got cocky. I put my drink down and turned towards Henry, my arms folded as I looked him in the eye. “The government doesn’t negotiate with hostage-takers.”

“I’ve looked you up, James Peregrine Lester. No close relatives. No lovers. You’ve got nothing except the anomaly project. Do you think the minister would let you keep it if something… unfortunate was to happen to his son?”

“James!” The minister gasped.

I fought back a wince at that reminder of just how empty my life was. The project was all I had now, now Ryan… and I knew I couldn’t let that happen to the minister, no matter how much an idiot he was. And then I remembered Daphne, who I assumed knew nothing about these events. I couldn’t let John die, but I couldn’t just give in either. I needed time and more than that, Henry said he knew me. I had never given in easily and he’d expect a trap if I just capitulated. “No individual's life is more important than the protection of the public, minister, not even your son’s.”

“I didn’t quite believe the stories I’d heard about you, James. You really are a cold-hearted bastard,” Henry sounded almost admiring. “You and I should join forces. Just think of the money we could make from the past.”


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lester continues to have to deal with the minister's mistake and gets to tell him a few home truths before making plans to stop Henry. Thinks don't go so well until they do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Secret Santa 2019 for Eriah211
> 
> Thanks go to fredbassett for the beta.

I hadn’t expected that response and, well, it opened up new options, so I merely quirked an eyebrow at him. 

Henry nodded, the smile on his face telling me he’d drawn the conclusion I wanted. “You’re already stealing from the past, aren’t you?”

“James!” The minister’s voice was full of censor, except he wasn’t the one I wanted to convince. 

“Oh, shut up!” I snarled at the idiot, partly because he should have known me better and partly because he really was getting on my nerves. “You really are a bloody fool, aren’t you?” I really hoped my plan worked, otherwise, from the look on Godfrey’s face, I’d be lucky to just be fired. 

Henry, however, just chuckled. “So, James. Just think what we could do together. We could take anything we wanted.” 

“Why would I need you for that?” I enquired blandly, curious to see Henry’s response. 

Henry frowned, obviously not expecting that response. “From what I hear, most of your people are academics, I doubt they have good fences.”

I shrugged, it wouldn’t do to have Henry think the entire ARC was corrupt, rumours would have spread if it had been. Too many odd finds would have been ‘discovered’. No, I had to let him think it was small scale, only myself and a select few others involved, maybe only myself and Ryan. “I get by.”

Henry smiled. “I have contacts you don’t, James. Just think of all that’s out there, just waiting for someone to take it. Gold and diamonds. Anything we could want.” His face took on a rather disgusting leer before he continued, “And then there’s the hunting.

“Hunting?” I echoed, feeling somewhat queasy. I might not like the creatures, messy and smelly beasts that they were, but I would never advocate their slaughter. It was one of the things I actually agreed on with Cutter, not that I would ever tell him that. 

Henry chuckled. “So, how about it, James? More money than you’d ever get whoring yourself to the government. More respect than this idiot gives you. Any man you could want as a lover...”

I swallowed hard at the reminder of Ryan, turning away from both other men, letting Henry think I was cracking. “Any...” My voice broke without any acting from me. 

“Anyone,” Henry tempted, obviously scenting blood. “Even that dead lover of yours...”

My shoulders shook as I felt the pain of Ryan’s lost rip through my heart once more. I would have given anything to have Ryan beside me once more, but… For a man who claimed to know me, Henry knew nothing about me. For all that I clashed with Cutter, I did agree with him when it came to messing with time. Who knew what apocalypse might occur if one did?

“No, James.” The minister looked distraught, clearly believing I really would betray him for money and Ryan. Bloody fool for not trusting me in the first place… although considering he was a bloody awful actor, maybe it was for the best, after all. 

“I thought I told you to shut up,” I snarled at him before turning back to Henry. “Why should I believe you?”

Henry glanced at the minister in contempt. “Why don’t we discuss this… business arrangement in private and I’ll tell you why.”

“James!” 

“Sit down and shut up,” Henry pushed the minister into a chair. “Stay here if you want your son back.”

The minister paled and I couldn’t have him thinking I had betrayed him. Who knew what irrational action he might take and ruin my plan. “You always tell me I should discuss the situation and make a compromise, minister,” I reminded him, hoping he’d recall I had never once compromised any of my projects.

***

Even after my warning and cloaked promise to the minister, I knew I had only a limited window before he grew some and did something stupid. Not that I could act instantly, I would have to wait for the opportune moment before I could take Henry down and, hopefully alive, rescue John. Unfortunately, Henry was not a trusting man and he kept me in his line of sight at all times, I knew I would need a distraction and smiled to myself as I change course and led him into the library. My gaze darted around as I looked for weapons, I knew the chairs were too heavy and the sword on the wall was stuck solid. I really didn’t want to resort to throwing books at him, not only would Daphne be displeased, they really were valuable.

“Why are we here?” Henry asked suspiciously as he glanced around. 

“Two reasons,” I informed him in an almost absentmindedly tone as I continued my perusal of the library. “One, it is less of an eyesore than any room except my bedroom and I’m not taking you there.”

“Good,” Henry muttered.

I almost snorted at the distaste in that one word. “You’re not my type, either,” I informed him in my most disdainful tone, curiously to see if he apologised or just brazened it out. 

Henry shot me a look and then turned back to business, money obviously triumphed over anything else. “And the second?”

“Because it is the library.”

“And?” Henry prompted. 

“With books,” I continued. 

“And?” 

Henry still didn’t see where I was going and I bit back a sigh at his ignorance, useful though it might turn out. Instead I ignored him and searched the shelves for a book which might serve to distract him. I smiled as I pulled out a copy of ‘The History of the World’ by Andrew Marr and held it out to him. “Here, take this.”

“Why would I want something written by some journo?”

I allowed my eyeballs to roll before allowing my snark free reign, being nice at this point would just set alarm bells off. “Because it is a good primer into historical eras and will help you… us,” I corrected myself as if I had misspoke, “decide what time period might be.. interesting to us. Ones we can investigate in more detail.” When he snorted at the thought of research, I added, “Where the gold and diamonds, as you put it, can be found...”

Henry frowned before grabbing the book roughly and sitting down. I fought the urge to wince at his handling of a book and the urge to act right now, knowing I needed him to relax his guard first. To that end I picked up the book I had been reading earlier, although I leafed back a chapter or two so as not to became engrossed in it again.

***

I needed to know if Henry trusted me and saw the ideal chance when I noticed the book I was reading was shelved directly behind him. I tucked my bookmark out of sight and closed it firmly before strolling over to replace it. I saw Henry tense out of the corner of my eye and cursed as I pretended not to notice. Bloody hell, he either trusted me less than I hoped or he was just a paranoid bastard, neither was good news for my plan. Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers and I knew I was running out of time, with both the minister and potentially with whoever was holding John captive. I turned and leant against the shelves. “Find anything that takes your fancy?”

“Maybe,” Henry replied, his attention turning back to the book as I had hoped. 

I hesitated for a moment before approaching him to lean over and look at the book and realised I had made a mistake when he edged away from me. “I told you, you’re not my type.” I sighed and stood up again, moving away while shaking my head. 

I wondered if I’d waited too long when I heard his chair scrap against the wooded flooring and turned to face him, one eyebrow raised as I considered him. “Well?”

“Tell me why I still need you?” Henry asked. 

I laughed. “Because you couldn’t find your arse with both hands and a map without me.”

Henry’s face turned red and he telegraphed, I assume unintentionally, his punch. I sidestepped it easily, winced when I heard a thump and hoped he’d hit wood of the shelves rather than the books. I thought he probably had when he gave a muffled grunt of pain. All thoughts about the books was driven from my mind when he swore before coming at me again. He didn’t fight fair and I certainly saw no reason to follow the Marquess of Queensbury’s rules in our fight.

As we grappled and fought, we crashed into one of the shelving units and I dove out of the way when I felt it topple and I heard it land with a crash and a billow of dust. I scrabbled undignified to my feet, coughing on the dust and peering through the cloud for my foe. I threw my own punch at Henry, smiling when it connected and grunted when one of his slipped through my guard. 

I stepped back to avoid another of his punches and felt my foot slip on something, a book I could only assume, and windmilled as I tried to regain my balance. I grunted when he charge me, falling and groaning as pain exploded in my head and I could see only stars for a moment. I peered blurringly up at Henry as he mockingly shook his head at me. “And to think I thought you were intelligent, James, but you’re just as much a fool as Barrington-Smythe.”

“You’re the bloody fool if you think you can control the anomalies. My people can’t figure it out and they’re at the top of their professions.”

It appeared I had unfortunately found a nerve as Henry snarled, “I’m not the bloody fool” at me, each word punctuated by a kick to my ribs.

I grunted and curled up, trying to protect the vulnerable parts of my body before remembering my training. I twisted to avoid his next kick and kicked my own legs out to slam into the knee of the leg he was standing on. Unfortunately, I had nowhere to move and he fell on top of me with a grunt, knocking all the breath from my lungs. In that moment of distraction, as I gasped for breath, I felt his hands close around my throat and start to choke the life from me. 

I struggled with him, fighting to get his hands away from my neck but I couldn’t break his grip. I recalled through the fog slowly settling over my mind that I had a tactical pen in my pocket, Ryan’s last gift to me and one I couldn’t bring myself to dispose of. Something I was very glad of now, oh it might not seem like much but I knew exactly how effective it could be in the right hand and mine were. My fingers closed around the pen and I withdraw it from my pocket, lashing out almost blindly as my vision greyed out at the edges. I felt it sink into something and heard Henry’s agonising cry of pain, I felt something warm and sticky on my hand. I knew I’d hit Henry and twisted the pen to increase the size of the wound, knowing the shock would slow Henry down and allow me to gain my breath. I squirmed free as soon as I felt Henry’s grip relax and scrabbled away until I felt something solid behind me and lay there gasping for breath, my hand rubbing my throat. 

It took me several moments, ones I wasn’t sure I had, for my vision to, well, not clear as everything was still somewhat blurry, but I could see well enough. I peered around for Henry, finding him lying on his back, his hands clasped to his face and my pen jutting from between his fingers. The sounds he was making reminded me of a wounded animal. 

I gritted my teeth and forced my recalcitrant limbs to move, my head swimming and nausea roiling in my stomach. I had managed to get to my knees when I realised the keening noise had stopped. I slowly looked up to find Henry had also managed to move, my gaze flickering between the pistol pointing directly at my heart and my pen, jutting almost obscenely from the mangled remains of his left eye, blood painting his face and as I watched, a jelly-like blob of, I assumed, vitreous humour slide down his cheek. 

“My eye! My fucking eye,” Henry howled. “You fucking arsehole, I’m going to carve yours out before I put a fucking bullet in you, you fucking bastard!”

My head throbbed in time to my flickering vision and I took shallow breathes as I swallowed down my need to vomit. I almost hoped he attempted to carry out his threat, then at least I’d have a chance to stop him. At least, a better chance than avoiding a bullet at this range. It took me several long seconds to realise that the flickering light wasn’t a side effect of my probably concussion but was something rather more sinister. The thought ‘Oh no, not again’ went through my mind, before I realised an anomaly might be exactly what I needed to stop Henry. After all, they attracted creatures like catnip did a cat and I doubted Henry would survive an encounter with whatever came out of this anomaly. Of course, in my present condition, I doubted I’d survive either. I found myself wondering if I would see Ryan again, before blaming that thought on the concussion. 

I noticed the anomaly ripple, something I knew heralded something coming through it, and I knew I had to make sure Henry didn’t realise. Not until it was too late for him to run and that meant I had to keep his attention fixed on my for as long as possible. “You?” I made sure my voice was full of disdain. “I doubt you could shoot straight when you had two eyes.”

Henry took a step towards me, a mad gleam in his remaining eye, and I lifted my chin in defiance, holding my breath as I waited for the end. 

“Time to say goodbye, James,” Henry gloated as he cocked his pistol and I stared down its barrel. I flinched at the gunshot, waiting for the pain which never came and blinked as I watched Henry collapse to his knees, his mouth opening and closing silently before he fell to the floor with a thump.

“James!” 

I tore my eyes from Henry and just gaped at the figure standing in front of the anomaly. I blame shock and blood loss, possibly the concussion I was sure I had, for that. My mind scrambled to comprehend what I was seeing and I shook my head, wincing as pain shot through my brain, and knew what I was seeing was impossible. I gave a wry smile as I enquired blandly, “Would it save you a lot of time if I just gave up and went mad now?” Although I couldn’t say why I believed a hallucination would answer me… and maybe that was the madness talking. 

“Please don’t, James,” the apparition said, kneeling beside me. His hand felt so real as he caressed my cheek. “You know it takes far too bloody long to break in a new boss.”

I laughed, well, choked up a somewhat hysteric sound, as the ghost of my lover threw my own words back at me. Words I had uttered and then he’d left me alone. I couldn’t take it and let my eyes drift closed, content to allow this memory to hold me close, to feel him press kisses to my hair, and hope reality didn’t shatter me when I woke.


	3. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lester wakes up and explanations are had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Secret Santa for Eriah211. Sorry for the late update, work and course just got in the way ;)
> 
> Thanks go to Fredbassett for the beta

My head throbbed and my entire body ached when I woke and I wondered what I’d done to feel this rough. Memory returned and my gaze darted around the room for Ryan as I struggle to rise. The room spun and I believe I groaned before collapsing back on to the bed. I had seen enough in those scant few seconds to know I was alone. That what I thought I had seen had been nothing more than the concussion.

I liked my dry lips, my mouth feeling like a mouse had died in it, and I struggled to reach one of the glasses of water on the bedside cabinet. My hand was shaking so much I was surprised I hadn’t either dropped it or spilt any. 

“James! Let me,” the well-known voice of my lover sounded behind me and I admit I was so surprised that I released the glass, barely hearing it smash on the floor. “James!” I felt the bed move but I refused to look, refused to turn around, fearing that it was just my imagination, my concussion, wishful thinking. It couldn’t be Ryan, I knew he was dead. 

I felt a hand on my arm, easing me back into bed. I felt the bed dip as someone sat beside me and a hand caressed my cheek, the callouses familiar and I felt tears build behind my eyelids. 

“Please, James, look at me.” 

Ryan’s familiar voice had me shaking my head; I knew it was childish but I also knew Ryan would disappear if I opened my eyes. That whoever was with me was someone else. 

“Please, love,” Ryan’s voice continued. “Just open those lovely green eyes and look at me.”

“I…” My voice cracked alarmingly on that one word and I swallowed to regain my composure, such that it was. “I… you died.”

“No I didn’t, I promise you, James. I’m as alive as you are.”

I admit I snorted at that, after all, I had been injured and unarmed before a man I’d just maimed and who wanted me dead, in the presence of an open anomaly. “Am I?”

“Yes!” Ryan’s voice continued to taunt me, haunt me and I so desperately wanted to open my eyes and see him before me. “I promise you, James. Now, just open your eyes for me, please.”

I shook my head, wanting to hold onto this dream for as long as possible, even though I knew it was the concussion and whoever it really was must have been going increasingly worried about me. I leaned into the hand stroking my cheek and, taking a deep breath, opened my eyes and just stared at the well-known, impossible face before me. “Ryan?” 

“Yes, James, it’s really me,” Ryan told me. 

“How?” I asked, struggling to rise and have a good look at him. 

“Easy, James,” Ryan sounded worried. “Please, lie down and rest. The doctor says you’ve got a concussion to go along with several bruised ribs. You need to rest.”

Well, that explained why I felt so bloody rough, even if not how Ryan was standing, well, sitting before me. I felt him press me back into the bed and for once I didn’t resist, just looking up at him in wonder. I actually had to think whether my mouth was hanging open in shock, but thankfully it wasn’t. As much as I wanted to know how Ryan being here with me was possible, something else was far more important at this precise moment. I reached up and tugged Ryan down, licking his lips until he opened them for me. Our kiss was so sweet, so longed for, that I was disappointed when I had to break it, my lungs straining for oxygen and I just lay there looking at him for a long moment. 

“James?”

I licked my lips, grateful when he helped me sip my water. My gaze flickered over him, only now realising his hair was still damp from a shower and I groaned at that thought. I felt his hand on my face and met his concerned eyes. “I’m fine,” I murmured before I heard Ryan’s knowing chuckle. 

“Rest and when you’re better,” he waggled his eyebrows at me. 

I glared at him before the question I most wanted, most needed to be answered reasserted itself in my mind. “How?” I demanded. 

Ryan frowned for a moment before understanding blossomed on his face. “I woke up buried under dirt,” he began. “I must have been in a air pocket and I managed to drag myself out.” His eyes glazed as he seemed to look inward and I grabbed his hand, squeezing it until he re-focused on me. “I found the mounds my men were buried under and checked but they were all dead. I was all alone and injured in the Permian and it took me months to get back. I wondered if I’d ever find the right anomaly to come home.”

I nodded, that sounded plausible but I had to know, I had to know if he was… “How do I know you’re my Ryan?” 

Ryan looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Cutter came back alone, saying you,” and my voice broke, I needed a moment to regain my composure as Ryan squeezed my hand, “and your men died.”

“I don’t understand, James?”

I nodded. “He claims he’s from another… timeline. That he didn’t know Ms Brown, instead my deputy was someone else, an Oliver Leek.”

“Ah,” Ryan looked thoughtful for a moment. “We got together just before Christmas, although we’d been edging towards it for months. Our first kiss was beneath a sprig of mistletoe Temple had put up outside your office.” 

“Hmm,” I said, remembering that instance and Temple was lucky I’d been too distracted to deal with him. “Anything else?”

“You told me to be careful on shouts, that breaking in a new soldier took too much time.”

I frowned. “You said that to me in the library.”

Ryan nodded and produced my pen, waving it at me as he said, “I’ve thoroughly cleaned this.” He looked at me for a moment before saying, “Really, James, taking on a gunman with a bloody pen!”

“It was all I had on me at the time,” I informed him haughty. “And it worked.”

“The pen is mightier than the sword?” Ryan queried. 

“Well,” I said, “It is if the sword is very short and the pen is very sharp. Even if the sword turned out to be a gun.”

“It was still a pen!” Ryan cried out, obviously trying to make a point but whatever that point was was lost on me when he added, “Even if I made sure it was a top of the line model when I got it for you.”

“When you?” I queried. 

Ryan looked scared for a moment as he asked, “Didn’t I give it to you?”

I couldn’t stand that look on his face and tugged him in for another kiss, snogging him hard and putting all my love in it. “Yes, you did.”

“On our sixth month anniversary?” Ryan persisted, obviously wanting to make sure we had been together. 

“Yes, Ryan,” I confirmed, my hand caressing his face. “I would appear you are my Ryan.”

“Thank fuck!” Ryan exclaimed. 

I laughed, gasping as my ribs ached. “I’m glad you made it back to me, Ryan.”

“So am I,” Ryan agreed firmly. 

The thought that if events had been different, if Ryan hadn’t woken up in an air pocket, I could have lost him for good had me frowning.

“James? Are you in pain?” Ryan asked, concerned. “Should I get the doctor back?”

“No.” I smiled at him and shook my head. “When we get back to work, remind me to instigate first aid courses for everyone.”

“James?” Ryan asked, confusion in both his voice and face. 

“Definitely,” I continued. “Then the bloody mad professor would have known you were alive.” 

“Good idea, love.” Ryan smiled at me. “Home, James?” 

I nodded before frowning up at him as I recalled my earlier plans. 

“James?”

“I...” I ran a hand through my hair, a nervous gesture I knew Ryan recognised when he grasped my hand. “I had planned… that is, I was wondering...” Bloody hell, I was rambling almost as much as Temple. I stopped and took a deep, calming breath, wincing slightly as my ribs complained. 

“James?” Ryan repeated, looking so worried I just to tug him down for another kiss. 

“I had hoped to spend Christmas at my place in the country… If you would accompany me?”

“Of course I will, James.” Ryan smiled and kissed me once more. “Happy Christmas, love.”

“Christmas?” I queried and at his nod, I grinned at him. “You’re the best present I could ever have.”

Ryan looked worried and pressed a hand against my forehead. 

“I’m fine,” I groused.

“You’re getting soppy,” Ryan pointed out and I supposed I couldn’t deny that. “Now rest and let me take care of you.”

I frowned and looked up at Ryan. “Ryan? Did I make a dreadful mess in the library?”

“Daphne’s already forgiven you for that mayhem, although not the minister or their son for causing it in the first place. I think they’re both grounded for putting you and her in danger,” Ryan informed me. “Now, please rest.”

“Join me?” 

“I promise, James, I’m not leaving you. Never again.”


End file.
